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Posts Tagged ‘book quotes’

Friday 56

Coming-Home-cover

This week’s Friday 56 comes from Holly Kerr‘s novel, Coming Home. It’s a scene between two sisters at 56% on my Kindle.

“I didn’t know what to say to her. All my life I had never known what to say to her, how to make her understand me, what I could say that wouldn’t frustrate her. I still didn’t know what to say. So I stood there in the room until the chill slowly disappeared.”

Rules:
*Grab a book, any book.
*Turn to page 56 or 56% in your eReader
(If you have to improvise, that’s ok.)
*Find any sentence, (or few, just don’t spoil it)
*Post it.
*Add your (url) post in Linky here. Add the post url, not your blog url.
*It’s that simple.

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Friday 56

Rules:
*Grab a book, any book.
*Turn to page 56 or 56% in your eReader
(If you have to improvise, that’s ok.)
*Find any sentence, (or few, just don’t spoil it)
*Post it.
*Add your (url) post in Linky here. Add the post url, not your blog url.
*It’s that simple.

nightingale

I finished The Nightingale by Kristin Hannah about 5 this morning and near the end, I found today’s passage. I know it’s further than 56% but this one called out to me and I want to share it with you. It’s from 83% on my Kindle.

“I love you, Papa,” she said quietly, realizing how true it was, how true it had always been. Love had turned ito loss and she’d pushed it away, but somehow, impossibly, a bit of that love had remained. A girl’s love for her father. Immutble. Unbearable but unbreakable.

“How can you?”

She swallowed hard, saw that he had tears in his eyes.

“How can I not?”

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Friday 56
Rules:
*Grab a book, any book.
*Turn to page 56 or 56% in your eReader
(If you have to improvise, that’s ok.)
*Find any sentence, (or few, just don’t spoil it)
*Post it.
*Add your (url) post in Linky here. Add the post url, not your blog url.
*It’s that simple.

No art work for this book today but I hope you like the quote from Arturo Islas: The Uncollected Works Edited by Frederick Luis Aldama. Arturo Islas was my favorite professor in college and a lot of my love of writing and even my writing voice I owe to him so I hope you enjoy this.

“In the first weeks of that first year you were gone, I awakened to unbearable feelings of loss, self-recrimination, emptiness, nothingness. There was no sense of time moving in that house where you and I had lived together for three years. In the darkness and intolerable silence of that empty space (empty? I was there, wasn’t I? I didn’t think so, I felt annihilated) I was even afraid of the light slowly creeping into my bedroom.”

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Friday 56

dreaming in cuban

“It’s hot as hell when I finally get off that bus. The sun is burning my scalp, so I duck into a luncheonette. Everything looks antiquated, like the five-and-dime counters in New York. They’re the best place to get a BLT , so that’s what I order here, with an orange soda.”

From page 57 (there’s no 56) in Dreaming In Cuban by Cristina Garcia.

This meme is from Freda’s Voice. Grab a book and give it a go!
Rules:
*Grab a book, any book.
*Turn to page 56 or 56% in your eReader
(If you have to improvise, that’s ok.)
*Find any sentence, (or few, just don’t spoil it)
*Post it.
*Add your (url) post below in Linky. Add the post url, not your blog url.
*It’s that simple.

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Snow Angels

I know this is a sore subject for all those in snowed under/in conditions but I came across a passage in a book I am reading that I had to share.

The book is Unforgettable:Short Stories by Paulette Alden. In the one story, Miriam’s (the main character) father dies. She thinks she has processed it only to find herself in tears every few weeks when it hits her that he is gone. Then one day in the coldest of winter (it takes place in Minnesota) she is swimming at an indoor pool. Here’s the passage that called out to me:

“And now she’s aware of a presence. She understands that she is being watched over, guarded. Or maybe it’s only the snow. It has the feel of snow–beautiful, silvery, silent, filling the air. This is what angels are like, she thinks. And this is what snow is like. How it falls and falls, how it blesses us.

You’re gone. I’ll never see you again.

But this time she doesn’t cry.”

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I just finished reading a book that got me to want to do some research on perfumes. The book, The Perfume Collector by Katherine Tessaro, was surprisingly good.

It’s the story of two women, Eva and Grace. Their stories are told in alternate chapters, Eva’s in the 1920’s and Grace’s in the 1950’s. Grace, a young London wife is in an unhappy marriage. Her husband has become very materialistic and status conscious. After Grace suffers a miscarriage that leaves her unable to have children, her husband, Roger, won’t go near her. He works late and often stays at his club and finds reasons to travel away from home alone. They don’t even sleep in the same bedroom anymore. Grace discovers he is having an affair and on the same day, she gets a telegram telling her that she has inherited property and stocks in Paris. Although she doesn’t know anyone in Paris and does not recognize the name of her benefactor, Eva D’Orsey, she needs to get away from London and so she agrees to go to Paris to meet with the attorney.

We meet Eva when she is 14 years old. Her uncle takes her to work in the hotel where he works in New York City and she gets a job as a maid. Little by little, we get to know her and grow with her as she meets a variety of guests at the hotel. We then follow her as she leaves the hotel and ends up in Europe.

Grace learns of the inheritance and is determined not to accept it until she finds out who Eva D’Orsey was and why she left her as sole beneficiary. She is an orphan, her father having died of a heart attack and her mother in the blitz during WWII. There is no one to ask about Eva D’Orsey. She finds small clues and goes off, with Monsieu Tissou the attorney. Little by little she learns the truth.

Along the way, we learn about the nature of scent and the process of making perfumes. Tessaro even uses real people who were involved in perfumeries in Paris in the 20’s. That’s what led me to want to research perfumes and the successful perfume creators of Paris in the period in which the novel takes place. It’s really very fascinating, at least to me.

Favorite quote from the book: “But if you’re going to get paid to swallow, my dear, you’d better learn not to choke!”

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Well, I’m participating in NaBloPoMo this month so I should be posting every day.  I wrote two posts yesterday but saved one of them as a draft and published it today as I knew I would be busy.  However, the date on it shows that I published it yesterday, not today so I guess I will post again, so I can be in compliance.

Here’s a quote about some very hurtful words a husband said to his wife after she had a stillborn baby…

“The hateful things he said: it was your big body that suffocated Nadege.  Every time you sat down you were strangling her.  My baby’s dead because you didn’t take care of yourself.  Poor Jo, your body is a dust bin, a great fat disgusting dust bin.  You’re a sow.  A slag and a sow.” from The List Of My Desires by Gregoire Delacourt

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“Memories are who we are, Tul.  In the end that’s all the luggage you take with you.  Love and memories are what last.  That’s why your life flashes before your eyes when you die — you’re picking the memories you want.  It’s like packing.” –lfrom Fly Away by Kristin Hannah

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“Since his stroke he’s been living in the present.  He has no past and no future.  He lives in a present that lasts six minutes, and every six minutes the meter of his memory resets itself to zero.  Every six minutes he asks me my name.  Every six minutes he asks what day it is.  Every six minutes he asks if Maman is coming to see him.” –from The List Of My Desires by Grégoire Delacourt

I often think about getting so old that I have no memory.  If I have no memory, I will cease to exist because we are our memories.  And honestly speaking, who would want to go on living past the point where their memory was gone?

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